


Turn Around

by Lucifers_Daughter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Horror, Nightmares, Other, Scary, Spooky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6489139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifers_Daughter/pseuds/Lucifers_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The monster in the closet, under your bed. That creepy old man that used to hang in the corner of your room, watching. The hands you felt around your neck, when you were home alone. Every damn nightmare you've ever had, well, say hello to something so much worse. Trust the children. Follow the rules. Hands and feet on the bed, stay under the covers, if you can't see it it can't see you, lights make it better, torches make it worse. And most importantly of all, don't turn around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Around

**Author's Note:**

> Promise me you won't turn around.

Do you feel that? That sickly sensation. Like  
unfamiliar fingers caressing your back, unwelcome, and too friendly to be kind. That feeling of grease slipping, slowly, down your spine, churning your stomach. You can feel it now, can't you? You can feel the bile rising in your throat, as the warm, stinking breath of the unkown seems to cling to the behinds of your ears. You convince yourself it's your mind playing palour tricks, because you're afraid that if you turn your head it won't be. And you'll see someone staring at you with such manically adoring eyes. You're right. Trust your instincts. Don't turn around.  


It was 5:00am, and Dean Winchester was awake, a bottle by the foot of his hard back chair, and his head in his hands. The nightmares were enough, but this. The guilt of it all. To him, it seemed ridiculous, stupid even, to anyone else, it was what anyone would feel with a life like his. He felt weak, diseased. Why wouldn't he? He was a monster. A filthy coward, who did anything to survive, no matter who got hurt. It was just collateral damage, what did their lives matter compared to his? Charlie, Jo, Kevin, Ellen, God knows there were too many. At least that's that's the way he saw it. He would never show it, though. He would take a swig of whiskey, and burn the pain out in the alcohol, no tears. Keep a stiff upper lip, like a good little soldier, and do his damn job; protect Sammy, no matter the cost. He'd be the one paying it, but that was fine. He deserved it.

"Dean?" A gruff voice called. "Are you okay. You seem...Unhappy." Cas stood over the man, a look of mild concern on his face. This, of course, resulted in a Dean jumping out of his skin, unexpecting of the Angel's visit.  
"Jesus, Cas, don't do that!" Dean's voice was barely above a whisper, yet he still managed to sound aggrivated, to say the least. "Keep it down, will you? Sam needs to rest up."  
"As do you, Dean." Cas replied simply  
"No, Cas, I'll be fine. What are you doing here?"  
"I have found a case I thought you'd be interested in."  
"Cas, it's not even six o'clock."  
"I am aware, Dean." A half-impressed, half-testing eyebrow raise on Dean's part confirmed that the sarcasm in Little Miss Trenchcoat's statement had been noted. It seemed he had finally got a grip on that one. Dean, however, let it slide; regardless of the time, he was extremely interested to find out what this case was. They hadn't had one in weeks.  
Sam was woken, quite rudely, by a large pillow to the face. "Get up, asshat." Being the first thing he heard, on this wonderous morning. Groaning loudly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes as he did.  
"What?! It's, like, five thirty." He growled, checking the clock, his voice ridden with sleep.  
"We've got a job." Dean stated.  
"Five thirty, Dean!"  
"In Dean's defence," Castiel butted in. "It is a very intruiging one."  
"Shut up, Cas, don't take his side." Sam warned, unphased by the Angel's presence. He practically lived with them, it wasn't a suprise he was here. Sam could only imagine what he and Dean got up to, when he was away. "What's the case, then?"  
"Kids." Dean chirped, vaguely, leaving Cas to explain.  
"There have been reports of children between the ages of four to fifteen going missing. Before the dissapearances, they had complained to their parents about 'the Man In The Bed,' but were unable to confirm what he looked like, as they refused to turn around."  
"Any other information?" Sam inquired.  
"I have the emails the parents sent the police."  
"Okay, I'll take a look at those. Dean, can you-"  
"Yeah, I'll make us some coffee." He sighed, lifting himself from his seat, while Sam poured over the printed emails Cas had just handed him.  
"Okay, so get this..." Sam piped up some time later, his Coffee cup already empty on his bedside table. "One kid was brave enough to take a peep, saying he ' wanted to know what the egg smell was,'"  
"Sulfur?" Dean interrupted, earning a nod in confirmation. "Let me guess, flickering lights? Black eyes?"  
"The lights, yes. But the eyes," he looked up at the Angel and his brother both squinting down at him in confusion. "The eyes were red."

**Author's Note:**

> Did you do it? Did you turn around?


End file.
